


Reminiscence

by Devcon03



Series: Haven, Void and Beyond [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Spark Bond, Spark Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:29:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devcon03/pseuds/Devcon03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s during mid-shift, the busiest moment of the solar-cycle, that Devcon suddenly stops in his tracks. Something has set off his memory-files, not just drawing his attention, but rooting him in place...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reminiscence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redseeker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redseeker/gifts).



> Third story written for Haven, Void and Beyond. Written as a Valentines' gift for Redseeker. 
> 
> WARNING: There is /no/ canon to back this up, ever. Therefore; don't like, then please, don't read. 
> 
> Beta-read by Redseeker, but any mistake found goes down as mine.

  
It’s during mid-shift, the busiest moment of the solar-cycle, that Devcon suddenly stops in his tracks. Something has set off his memory-files, not just drawing his attention, but rooting him in place. As his processor searches through his memory banks, he slowly raises his optics, feeling... strange.  
  
His gaze stops once it has reached the bar-counter. There, it settles on the mech behind it, working with blending different drinks. It takes him a while to realise why he’s not moving, and once he grasps the fleeting thought, he finds himself forgetting everything but the sweetest memory of a time long, oh so long, ago.  
  
  
Starscream’s vocals, all tight and full of emotions-  
  
  
 _If... if I had a spark, I'd share it with you. It's yours, even though it's gone..._  
  
  
It’s like being hit by a boulder, and his spark expands, feels tight and swollen in its chamber. He lifts a hand to his chestplate and swallows, feeling unsteady. He doesn’t know what set it off – the music? A scent? The way the bar felt this evening, all warm and homely, all safe?  
  
More guests are coming through the door, just as expected. Somebot walks past, happily hailing him, but Devcon only has optics for the exotic mech that once caught his interest in the Pit. Starscream isn’t bothered by their loud visitors, he doesn’t even notice them as he works. His angular face is open and peaceful, his movements elegant. There’s the smallest trace of a scowl there, but seeing as he’s mixing energon, that would be concentration and not annoyance.  
  
No bot disturbs him as he works, and their guests have learnt to let the seeker be, even when Devcon’s gathering the empty cubes and cannot serve them. While Devcon has earnt their respect by being a bad-afted glitch, Starscream is the one they fear and respect the most.  
  
Devcon likes that, and his spark hums contently. They’ve been in Void for such a long time now, that the locals treat them as neighbours. Well, _Haven_ had always been their home to start with, but who had known it was also a portal of sorts? Well, perhaps not a portal. Something else. Something unknown.  
  
Something almost... alive.  
  
He lacks the words for it, but it doesn’t matter. The bar in the deepest level of Void 4911 belongs to them, and they in turn fill it with laughter, booze, and music. Haven has everything they need and everything they want. In a way, he sometimes wonders if the bar is one of those places that exist everywhere, and more importantly – every _when_.  
  
Starscream’s words, uttered so softly, all those stellars ago, haunt Devcon until he has to put the tray down. His hands are shaking and he feels strange. Almost in pain. He doesn’t understand why, but it touches him on such a deep level that he simply cannot override it and push it away.  
  
He remembers how hard it was, to trust...  
  
But, he’d done it. He’d given Starscream his spark, and the seeker had touched it, had kissed it. Had tasted it, had held it between his claws. Later still, he’d bared his empty chamber and Devcon had been allowed to kiss the darkness within. He’d loved it, he’d made his mate scream in pleasure and pain both.  
  
And one fateful evening, in the very booth no bot dared to use lest they wanted a blaster in the face, on that very table...  
  
It had been pure instict. Starscream’s empty chamber had felt a spark, and Devcon had allowed his spark to overrule his higher processor power. The combination had put Starscream into stasis.  
  
It had also given him a ghost of a spark.  
  
The hunter shutters his optics, seeing it all over again; Starscream’s optics, his words -  
  
  
 _You’ve done this for me..._  
  
  
Why it had happened, or how – it didn’t matter. Perhaps it was the combination of a spark that wouldn’t be reprogrammed, and the infamous shard of his mate. Perhaps it was some unknown power within the very walls of Haven. Perhaps it was Primus being bored out of his processor.  
  
The pale, flickering spark in Starscream’s cockpit had been created by the flares Devcon’s spark released when he overloaded, but it didn’t matter. It was there, a physical thing. It was beautiful, like a little sun, and it felt like the real deal. Starscream had treasured it like nothing else, and Devcon had suddenly realised how much it meant for him.  
  
When it died, Starscream had mourned, but the hunter had known that despite the severe pain it forced upon the seeker’s systems, and how it drained him, they could do it again. Again and again, even. He didn’t care about the amount of energy it demanded of his spark, didn’t care how weak it made him... If Starscream wanted to feel alive, he would do everything in his power to give that to him.  
  
Devcon had never questioned his devotion, and when that rift of spacetime had stolen Starscream during a flight, he’d given chase through the portal. It didn’t matter that he had no idea where it was taking his mate. All that mattered was Starscream, and the fear of losing his mate drove him almost insane.  
  
When the rift had finally closed, Devcon had found himself in utter darkness. In less than a nano-klikk, however, he’d recognised just _where_ he was too.  
  
Haven.  
  
The bar had been all dark, lonesome, save for a few generations worth of dust. Starscream had been there too, and they’d clung to each other like lost new-sparks. Almost losing his mate had driven Devcon close to self-destruction. Only Starscream’s vocals, his hands, his kisses, had grounded him.  
  
Once they’d calmed down enough to start looking around, things had turned stranger still. The bar, Haven, looked just like the first time they’d found it, in the Pit. It was the very same – unchanged. Dusty, old and worn, in need of repairs and looking after, but it was, without a doubt, the same bar.  
  
One thing lead to another, and once again they found themselves fussing over the bar. Everything was in place. Every single room. Every storage. Even the Lower Basement, which now made sense, seeing as they were in the bowels of a space station. The critters, slobbering and deadly, all claws and teeth, seemed happy enough to see them as well.  
  
Why Haven was the same as the copy in the Pit, they never found out. Perhaps it didn’t matter. Perhaps they didn’t want to ask lest they found themselves taken again.  
  
And time passed, as time does.  
  
Things between them became better, sweeter, now that there were no factions demanding them to break things up. There were no Autobots and certainly no Decepticons – no warlords – to disturb them. The world above didn’t care about any war. It was older than anything Devcon had ever seen. It was a Neutral place, truly indifferent for any kind of factions save the local ones.  
  
It was there, between mundane things like shopping for additives and fabrics, between finding carvers and specialists, that Starscream once again let him have his chamber. It didn’t hurt his mate now. It burnt, yes – but nothing worse than a sting. His chamber had grown accustomed to the flares now, and when it drew them from Devcon’s spark, it didn’t drain him either.  
  
Something... happened, over and between many times they merged. It _was_ merging, no matter how strange or bleak it might seem to others. For them, it was what they could have, and maybe it was the power Haven seemed to generate, or perhaps it was the space-station itself. A combination, perhaps, between all of it and Starscream’s shard. They merged, again and again, whilst that little pale star shone in the seeker’s cockpit.  
  
It never stopped shining again, and over time Devcon realised the little sun would never go out. When Starscream fully understood it, he’d naturally been afraid to lose it. But once again, life moved on, and the pale ghost of a spark grew stronger, drew more flares from their merging, and kept them.  
  
What once was dark and empty is now filled with light and love...  
  
/Comm: Devcon! Snap out of it, hunter. We’ve got guests and where are those fraggin’ cubes you were supposed to wash up?!/  
  
Devcon shakes himself out of his memory files and realises that Starscream is glaring at him. The seeker holds his wings high and proud, and looks as pretty as supernova. When Starscream lifts an optic ridge at his soft smile, the hunter shakes his helm fondly and moves on.  
  
Life as a mated mech isn't bad, and it will never stop being the most wonderful thing he’s ever felt. That spark that lights his mate, it's proof that miracles exist – be they interdimensional pubs or Pits in which a mech could meet the love of his life. Devcon will never stop loving his brat prince, and as long as Haven keeps them safe, the bar will have music and light, warmth and love from the both of them.  
  
/Comm: _Devcon!_ /  
  
”Coming, dark matter of mine.” Devcon grins and resumes his duties as house-bot.


End file.
